


Not Just American

by RebornFromSeas



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Assassin's Creed: Syndicate, Canon Trans Character, Coming Out, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 06:11:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5364425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebornFromSeas/pseuds/RebornFromSeas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For all their relationship has progressed steadily like a train on it's rails, there's one rather important detail Ned's held back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Just American

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the original version of this at 2AM while just about falling asleep, but desperately wanting to get the germ of the idea out. Someone Suggested I get an AO3 account and post it here... And I decided to do quite a bit of editing. Hopefully I didn't over do it.

Ned loved the Fryes' train, had since the first moment he saw it, which was the real reason he had first accepted the invitation for drinks aboard it some months ago.  That drinks on the train had become routine to the point where Ned would often carry a book on board, for those time Jacob’s prattle about his day would fall into silence, or when Ned simply wanted to block him out.  Soon even that had changed, with Jacob offering to rub Ned’s feet as he talked (And Ned did not turn down foot rubs – not even if it was Jacob Frye offering), and slowly that had turned into _this_ : Jacob distracting Ned from his book with a heavy arm across his shoulder and their mouths locked together.

 

Ned hissed as Jacob went from kissing his lips to leaning down to nibble at his neck.  Sure, the nibbling itself was pleasant, but Jacob’s scruff was the dry sort that was rough against the skin and Ned was just vain enough to disapprove of the red bumps that cropped up whenever Jacob rubbed those bristles against him.  He was about to say as much when he realized that the Assassin’s light fingers had undone his tie and dropped it somewhere in the vicinity of their shoes… and had moved one to Ned’s shirt buttons.  “ _What are you doing_?”  Though he knew what Jacob was doing – the well-read book laying forgotten on a nearby on a table could attest to Ned’s best theory.

 

Jacob lifted his head, a foolish grin splitting his face and his eyebrows bouncing, and Ned’s throat closed off as he realized he wasn’t wrong.  Thankfully Jacob’s grin fell into something uncharacteristically serious when he spoke, solemn and careful as if not to spook the smaller man, “Well, as much as I enjoy necking with you, this seems like a fine time to try out a bit more. The train’s nearly deserted for once.”

 

“You sent them away?”  A swell of panic rocked Ned back, and he felt like he had suddenly found himself knee-deep in the ocean. His brain clanged a warning - Stall, stall until he could figure out how to brace himself for this. “Take your own damn clothes of first.” 

 

Jacob sat back, and shook his head at Ned’s first question, “No, actually.”   Ned was just glad for the space and room to breathe as Jacob went to obey his snapped command.  His hands, large but capable of such delicate motions, hovered near his own shirt buttons for a long moment.  Ned kept waiting, kept bracing for the next swell of panic that would surely come once Jacob undid that first button, to start taking his clothes off, but it never came.  Jacob dropped his hands instead, and the fell onto his powerful thighs.  He must have heard something in Ned’s voice – Ned hoped that the fright hadn’t sent his pitch up a register – or seen something on his face, because there was concern in the set of his jaw and furrow of his brow when he spoke, “Ned… if you’re not up for a roll in the hay I won’t be mad at you.”

 

Ned swallowed.  There went stalling.  “That’s not it.  It’s been a while -” Never _really_ , considering the trust he’d have to put in whomever he was with. Only in his mind’s fiction did he dare - “And there is something that... I should tell you first.”

 

Jacob gave a nod.  “Alright, no rush.”  He held out a hand to Ned, with hope and calm and confusion mingling on his face, but dropped it a moment later when Ned stood and began pacing, and pacing.  The slighter man shoved his hands through his hair, grumbling without words.  

 

This was not how Ned had wanted to do this.  Truly he had hoped to put it off indefinitely.  He still could, Jacob was giving him that option, but this was also a chance to experience what he’d only hear and read about.  He took a breath to steady his thoughts and decide.  His hands dropped to his shirt and slowly took up the task of unbuttoning it where Jacob left off.  The shirt flapped open, revealing cloth wrapped around his chest.

 

Jacob sucked in a breath.  “Your ribs aren’t broken… are they?”  Though concern had been the first emotion in those words, by the end of it confusion reigned.  It wasn’t solely that if Ned was injured he’d just _say_ so, but Ned could tell that Jacob had gotten a closer look at the cloth band and its construction.

 

Ned shot a glare to Jacob, and shook his head.  “Just.  Be quiet for two seconds.”  Ned turned around and took another deep breath, counting to himself as he took in air and released it, and then dropped his trousers and pants.  Jacob took a moment to admire the curve of Ned’s backside, but then Ned was facing him again, and Jacob was at a loss.

 

For all of a second.  “And here I thought it was just because you’re American.”

 

Ned slammed his hands onto his hips – hips that were wider than most men’s.  “Maybe I should dress and leave if you can’t take this seriously!”

 

“No, no, Well.  I wasn’t entirely joking there, Ned Wynert.  I rather did think your voice was just from your accent.  Everything else?  Well if you’re short, if your build leans more towards delicate, if you have soft mounds under that” Jacob gesture to his own chest, suddenly confused about what to call the cloth, then gave up on calling it anything. “What does any of that matter?  It’s nothing, as long as you’re you.  Ned, I’ve always known you’re an odd man, this just means you’re an odd American too.”  Jacob stood and walked forward as his spoke, rough fingers finding the edges of Ned’s shirt first, and letting the smaller man step forward if he wanted.

 

Ned stood frozen for a moment.  “That’s it?  No gasp of horror or- flailing about and calling me a-”

 

Jacob cut him off with a quick shake of his head and leaned forward.  When Ned didn’t pull away, a kiss to the mouth followed, just as quick.  “You won’t be getting that from me.  Not ever.  Nothing is True, Everything it permitted.  I don’t always know what that means, but here and now, it means you are who and what you want to be.  So, just to make sure, you are Ned Wynert, American man, thief, and Train enthusiast, right?”

 

Ned felt the fear fall away then - like waking up.  “Of course I am.”

 

Jacob grinned.  “Good, because I’m quite in love with you, you know.”  And of course, being Jacob Frye and thus insufferable, he grinned wider.

 

Ned rolled his eyes, grabbed Jacob’s partially open shirt – did the man ever close it? – and pulled him down to kiss his forehead.  “I do know, you great goof.”  Ned relaxed, leaning forward so that Jacob’s hands slid around to his back, and a smile eased onto his face. 

 

Jacob’s grin softened in response, and the stood, quiet and happy until Ned commented into Jacob’s chest, “I think I might love you as much as your train.”


End file.
